


Wrappings

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Oliver and Laurel exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, 2006.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15
Collections: Lauriver Holidays 2020





	Wrappings

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is actually inspired by one of my prompt fills for later in the week, funnily enough. It'll probably make more sense how that happened once that prompt also gets prompted. In any case, please enjoy!

Oliver felt his hands shake with nerves as he led Laurel up to his room. It was stupid; they’d been up here countless times before, and Laurel was a more than willing participant when they had a private moment to themselves like this. As much as he loved his family, he was glad his parents had left to attend another high society holiday function just half an hour ago and that Thea was snoring away in her bed.

But it was one thing to be having sex with his girlfriend and another to seem like he was suggesting she do something a little extra first.

He’d gone back and forth on whether to buy it for days after he’d seen it in the shop. Even now, he had a necklace with a little circular pendant tucked away in a box as a backup in case he totally screwed this up. But he didn’t think so.

It all went back to their last date before this one. He’d picked Laurel up at her house to go skating at the rink they put up near the park each year, but she’d slumped into the passenger seat with a pout on her face.

“Everything okay?” He’d asked.

“Yeah, just… mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is when she said she didn’t have any ideas besides a Borders gift card. She and dad already got Sara new ski gear, but it’s like with me they never know what to do, or they fall back on boring stuff. I can buy my own books, you know?”

“Yeah. Course you can.” He’d reached out and tucked some of the hair that had been escaping her knitted cap back behind an ear. “So what’d you tell her you wanted?”

“I didn’t really say anything,” Laurel had admitted with a sigh. “I wish they just knew what to surprise me with. Something that says, you know, you’re a young woman and not a grandma. Something exciting.”

The very next day he’d been in the store and seen it, and he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind until he’d caved and purchased it. And he really hoped he’d gotten it right.

“Ollie, I do have to go home sometime tonight,” Laurel reminded him with a giggle as they entered his room. “Dad’s got the late shift, but he’ll still notice if I come sneaking in on Christmas Day.”

“I know, but just forget about your dad for a second, okay? I want to give you your present before you go.” He left her standing in the middle of the room to get the box out of the dresser drawer he’d stored it in. 

Laurel took it with a smile, raising it to her ear and giving it a playful shake. He could tell it hadn’t given her any clues as to what was inside. “Should I wait to open it on Christmas?”

He couldn’t quite hold in a laugh at the thought. “I don’t think you’re gonna want your family to see this.

“Oh yeah? What are you up to?” Laurel peeled back the paper before he could reply, eyes widening at the logo of the boutique on the cardboard lid. She didn’t comment on the price. Ollie liked that about them; Laurel often offered to pay for dinners or when they went to the movies, but she never complained or got offended if he splurged on her a little. Nor did she ever ask for anything extravagant.

In this moment, however, she did gasp when she took the lid off. “Oh.”

Oliver felt his face start to redden, which wasn’t a great start. “I just thought I should do something a little different this year. You know, we’ve been together a while and— I mean, you know I’m crazy about you, Laurel. I didn’t get this for me, or- or just for me. I just thought…”

Laurel didn’t even seem to hear him as she set the box on the bed and lifted the garment out of the box. It was black and lacy and sheer, with a matching set of lingerie sitting in the box underneath. Her cheeks had gone a bright pink, and Oliver knew that wasn’t the red flush of anger she got in the middle of an argument, but still he held his breath.

She held the nightie up against her body, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Her eyes jumped to his face, catching the movement. He watched her throat bob with a swallow, and then a breathless question followed: “Can I try it on?”

“Whatever you want,” he answered her. “It’s yours.”

“Okay.” A giddy smile lit her face as she seized the box and headed towards his bathroom. “Get comfy,” she told him before closing the door with a _snap_.

Oliver felt the air rush out of him with relief. She’d understood what he’d meant, even with his terrible attempt at trying to articulate it. He didn’t even know why he’d worried. Laurel always understood him. And he’d picked the right gift for her; that was another win.

He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed, wondering if he should strip down any further or wait. He didn’t want to be too pushy about it. He’d be happy with tonight even if they got no further than Laurel modeling the outfit for him. But he couldn’t deny he was already a little hard just thinking about seeing her in it in a few moments.

The door opened and his train of thought stuttered to a complete halt as she slipped back through the door. She looked even better than he could have imagined and put the model who’d been wearing it in the picture on the tag to shame.

The ends of the nightie swished this way and that as Laurel sashayed across the room. He could see the bra and panties underneath almost as clearly as if there wasn’t the thin layer of fabric over top, but somehow it being there added an additional allure. It was an ensemble that covered just the barest essentials, and even knowing exactly what she looked like underneath didn’t rob the thrill of anticipation from the moment.

She was holding herself differently, too. While Laurel didn’t lack in confidence most days, there was no mistaking the added sway to her hips or the extra puff to her chest. She knew she looked good, knew what his was doing to him as surely as she’d noticed him eyeing up her legs in those fishnet stockings from the flapper outfit she’d worn to Tommy’s Halloween party last year. Oliver was infinitely grateful they had nowhere to go this year. He wanted to enjoy this just between the two of them.

At last Laurel drew up in front of him, flipping her hair over one shoulder with a single toss of her head. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” he answered hoarsely. Laurel bit her lip, clearly pleased by the answer. There was a hunger in her gaze that he was sure was mirrored in his as her eyes swept up and down his body, lingering on the obvious sign of his arousal.

“I think I’ll let you unwrap a present early, too.”

Oliver groaned as he smoothed his hands up her thighs and felt them tremble under his touch. “I must have been a really good boy this year.”

Laurel giggled, the giggle turning to a shriek of laughter as he seized her around the waist and dragged her down onto the bed. Oliver captured her lips in an open-mouthed kiss, tongue tangling with her as her hands rose into his hair. His own hands roamed her body, running over lace and skin alike and savoring it all.

“Can you keep wearing the nightie?” He asked in her ear. Laurel gave an eager nod in response. He nipped at her earlobe, then continued down to her neck.

Laurel’s leg had slipped between both of his, and he couldn’t resist rocking against her a couple times, the friction good against his growing hardness. He needed his pants off and he needed that to happen now. As if reading his thoughts, he felt her hands trail down his back and around his front to his belt buckle.

As Laurel worked to get it undone and to pull down the zip on his fly, he couldn’t help watching her with her hair fanned out over the pillows, chest heaving and nipples hard beneath the bra. He descended upon her breast, wetting the lace with a lick and a suck, and Laurel jerked on the zipper of his jeans with a whine of his name. He cupped her other breast with one hand, massaging and teasing at the nipple in turn.

Somehow, Laurel managed to concentrate long enough to tug his jeans down to his knees. Oliver kicked them off the rest of the way, his erection creating a tent in his boxers. His sweater went next, falling off the bed somewhere he didn’t bother to keep track of. He was far more interested in undoing the three little buttons on the front of Laurel’s nightie to pull it open and expose the creamy skin of her stomach. He trailed his fingers up and down, feeling the muscles jump underneath.

“We do have a time limit here,” Laurel reminded him. He shushed her with a kiss to her navel.

“I’m saving the wrapping,” he told her. At last, with care, Oliver hooked a thumb in the elastic of the panties and dragged them down, Laurel raising her legs to aid the process. She let them fall much wider apart than before leaving him holding her underwear and sitting in the open v of her legs with a clear line of sight to what he desired most this Christmas Eve.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed. She always was, but it bore repeating.

He brought the garment up to his face and breathed in. The panties were wet and held the heady scent of Laurel’s arousal. Oliver moaned and palmed his erection with his other hand.

“ _Ollie_ ,” Laurel said, voice choked with want. In the bra and nightie with her legs spread and glistening sex totally exposed, she was decadent. He didn’t have the words or the thoughts to describe it anymore, overwhelmed with pure need and the throbbing of his cock.

She pushed herself up on an elbow, cleavage nearly spilling out of the bra as she leaned to one side to grab a condom out of his bedside drawer. He grinned; it was always fun to get Laurel worked up to the point where she just took charge. Not wanting to incur too much wrath, he shucked his boxers to let his erection finally stand free, ready for when she rolled the condom over it.

They met kneeling on the center of the bed, his cock jutting into her thigh as they kissed, his hand cupping the back of her head while her arms circled him and her fingers splayed across his shoulder blades. Oliver turned them and sat down, bringing Laurel down on top of him. The lace of her nightie brushed his legs and his belly as she gasped into his mouth at the press of his head against her entrance. He felt her shift her knees a little, getting comfortable and settled, but she slowly sank down onto his length.

They both moaned at the feeling of him entering her. For Oliver, it was an intense, hot pressure he couldn’t ever get enough of. It was too much and just right all at once, exhilaration mixed with a sense of comfort and home. Laurel had described to him once what having him inside her felt like, as if a piece of her she’d been missing was slotted into place, and he could only assume she was feeling that way now they way her eyelids fluttered and her mouth was dropped open long after her moan had quieted.

This was his favorite part, if he had to pick one. The moment where they sat like this, readjusting, the pleasant burn of being engulfed completely by her heat and the slow-building need to _move_ being staved off just a little longer, a little more until they couldn’t help but scratch the itch together.

Laurel hummed low in the back of her throat before she raised herself up until just the tip of him remained in her. Then she pushed her hips back down. With each repetition, she picked up a little more speed, a little more friction, and it felt good.

Oliver’s hands left her hips to cup her rear, the lacy fabric of the nightie bunching up as he squeezed her. His hips rolled a little with each downward stroke, and Laurel’s panting breaths started to be interspersed with little pleased sounds, echoed by his own grunts whenever her walls clenched around him just so.

Oliver could feel his release building. He was honestly grateful he’d lasted so far given the effect Laurel in these clothes — using the term loosely — had had on him. He brought a hand between them to rub circles over Laurel’s clit with his thumb, drinking in the sight as she threw her head back with a keening cry. He sat up taller, changing the angle he was rocking into her. He could feel himself sink in deeper, his balls hitting the back of her ass, and Laurel’s fingernails dug into his shoulder blades. Her rhythm stuttered.

“Oh, just like that,” she told him.

“How about _more_?” He asked, slowly tipping them forward to give himself the leverage to thrust into her heat. Laurel’s legs circled his hips, clinging on for all she was worth as he drove them both over the edge. Her shout of his name came with the tight squeeze of her around his cock, pushing him to completion and filling the condom with his release. Oliver remained where he was, braced just above her with one elbow on the mattress and the other hand still stroking her little nub as Laurel shook around him. She turned her face to the side with a little whimper, and he knew that meant enough. Oliver took his hand away and pulled out of her heat. Her legs fell bonelessly to the mattress as he took the used condom off his softened cock and tossed it in the can. Then he collapsed beside her, too spent to care that they were lying with their heads near the footboard and their feet on his pillows.

“So,” he said when he’d gotten his breathing under control. “Good surprise?”

Laurel rolled onto her side and smiled. “Very good.” Her hands clutched at the lacy fabric. “I don’t want to take this off.”

“I am definitely in favor of that idea, but I _think_ you mentioned something about having to go home tonight,” he replied with regret. Laurel pouted, and he leaned forward to kiss it away, unable to resist stroking the lacy fabric at her back a few times.

The grandfather clock out in the hallway chimed, reminding them both of the hour. Laurel sighed as she pulled away. “I guess we should get dressed.”

“Yeah. Uh, but hey.” He scrambled to his knees to get the jewelry box out of the bedside drawer and handed it to her. “If your folks ask, I gave you this, okay?”

“It’s not even a lie,” she agreed, opening the box and smiling down at the necklace. She shut it again, setting it aside. “Thank you, Ollie. I really needed this tonight. It made me feel… I don’t know,” she said, her smile widening as she rubbed the lacy fabric between thumb and forefinger. “Not different. Just more _me_ than people think I am.”

“Dinah Laurel Lance, you are more than people think you are,” he said honestly. “You’re a beautiful, exciting, _sexy_ young woman. No matter what you’re wearing,” he added.

She leaned in and kissed him, her lips curved in a smile as she did so. He cupped her cheek and traced the divet her dimple made with his thumb. Laurel’s teeth caught his lips, and Oliver knew if they weren’t too careful, he’d end up seriously considering spending the whole holiday up here with her, their families be damned.

“I have to leave,” Laurel murmured against his lips, a reminder to him or herself, it wasn’t clear.

“You get changed. I’ll ask the driver to get the car ready,” Oliver told her. They both stood, Oliver grabbing his boxers and jeans off the floor to step back into while Laurel slipped back into the bathroom. He ran downstairs to ask their driver to bring the car around, then hurried back up to his room.

She was still glowing when she re-emerged in her jeans and a comfy sweater, and he knew his cheesy words had been correct. He didn’t need Laurel to wear a sexy outfit all the time to find her desirable; there was so much more to her than her looks anyway. But he felt proud to know he could help her feel like she looked good when she wanted to.

“I’m missing a piece,” she told him, holding the box with the lid off.

“Hm? Oh.” Oliver searched and found the panties hidden within the tangled sheets on his bed. Part of him was loath to let them go. He’d just have to see Laurel in them again soon.

She soon fit the lid back on the box and tucked it under her arm. Oliver led the way down to the front where the car waited.

“I have to stay here cause of Thea,” he told her with a slight frown.

“I know.” Laurel stood on her tiptoes to give him one last kiss, then climbed into the car. The window rolled down, and she smiled up at him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Check your pocket,” she added as the car pulled away.

“Huh?” Oliver felt around in the pocket of his jeans. There was nothing there except his phone, which buzzed unexpectedly. He opened up the message from Laurel to find a picture of her that she must have taken in the full-length mirror of the bathroom, posing in the nightie and lingerie. She’d signed it off with, _Hope you like your extra present xx_.

Oh yeah. He really did have the best ideas sometimes.


End file.
